Posted tagged ‘Storm door’

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“This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until its done. It’s that easy, and that hard.”

October 4, 2015

I am in a funk. I have been struck by malaise. Maybe it’s the rain’s fault. It does get old after 4 or 5 days. Maybe it’s my back which has been hurting and making me grumpy. My plans for the day were to stay home, not get dressed and lie in bed and read. Now I have to go out to get cat food. The only 2 cans left are back-ups, food I bought for them to taste which they hated and left untouched in the dish. Rather than toss the cans, I kept them as an emergency supply hoping hunger would overcome distaste. It didn’t happen so I have to get dressed and go to Agway. I thought I’d take a break today and not write Coffee, but then I got started and just kept going. I guess I need a place where I can whine and complain a bit.

The sun was out this morning for about ten minutes. I got hopeful. Foolish me! The gray, damp day has returned. I suspect we’ll have rain later. I had to run the heat again for one cycle this morning. With the cold, I have to keep the back door shut which complicates Gracie going in and out. I figure I’ll put the storm door in today. That’s a surrender of sorts.

Right now Gracie’s deep breathing, her occasional snores and the tap of the keys are all I can hear. The house is almost eerily quiet.

I have the habit of reading what I write out loud. I have to hear the words. My ears tell me more about the language than my eyes. I make corrections based on the sounds of the connected words and on the choices of words. Sometimes it takes me a while to correct a single sentence until it sounds right. I am now at the read aloud stage. I am done writing.

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“Erratum. In my article on the Price of Milk, ‘Horses’ should have read ‘Cows’ throughout.”

June 11, 2015

Yesterday was a busy day for me. Gracie and I did a dump run then I did some home chores. One was to attach the umbrella light adapter to the bottom of the umbrella then plug the other end into an outlet. Last year I was clever. I had a hole drilled in the deck for the adaptor to go through then I unbent a wire hanger. The top loop of the hanger was left intact and stayed in the hole on the deck, but the rest of the hanger went into the hole and hung down under my deck. I went and tied the adapter to it, climbed upstairs to the deck and pulled the wire through the hole then attached the adaptor to the umbrella. It was a brilliant idea and well-executed. This year I went to do the same thing. On the first try I got the adaptor tied and through the hole to the ground under the deck. I went to attach it to the umbrella but dropped the wire which immediately fell through the hole. It took me four more tries to get that stupid adaptor end connected. That’s four times under the deck standing on my tiptoes to tie the adaptor, four times up the long staircase and four times on my knees trying to attach the adaptor.

My next job was replacing the storm in the front with the screen. I didn’t do the back door screen, the dog’s door, as I figured nights might still be chilly, and the inside door is kept open. That storm door pane weighed what seemed a ton and it was awkward to move. Going down the cellar stairs was a bit dangerous for me given my penchant for falling. I imagined a fall, shards of glass and a penetrated femoral artery. Luckily all went well.

It was hot yesterday, in the high 70’s. Today is supposed to be the same with some rain later, but there is a cloudy sky and a wonderful breeze. The house is cool.

The Globe this morning had an interesting tidbit of news. The State Police captured one of their most wanted, Keith Truehart. He was found in a hide-out built of wood and sheetrock under a sink in an apartment. It seems no one knew he was there. I’m thinking I’d notice a hide-out under my sink. Anyway, he was wanted for assault and battery on a child, a nine month old baby. From the article I gleaned the baby was his girlfriend’s baby, but this is what I read,”The baby was Truehart’s girlfriend, who lives in the North Main Street apartment where he was captured. His girlfriend is not under arrest at this time.”Whew!

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“The information age is so psychotic – without the cell phone and Internet, I would be drama free right now.”

September 25, 2014

I am back to myself again. The only aches and pains come from age.

The morning is dark, almost ominous. Everything is still. The house was cold when I woke up, down to 64˚. I broke my no heat vow. The house is now comfortable, and I am in my winter garb including slippers and a sweatshirt. I’m thinking it might be time to replace the back door screen with glass. That’s where Gracie’s dog door is, and when it’s cold, I have to keep the inside door shut, and Gracie can’t come and go at will. I’ve added that to my to do list for today. I’m also going to put a blanket on the bed. I was cold last night, and I know Gracie was too because she was leaning against me. It wasn’t comfortable.

Duke, the boxer I grew up with, was not allowed on furniture, including beds, but he always figured that only held true when we could see him. At night he’d sleep on the couch. We could hear him getting off when we walked down the stairs in the morning. When we went somewhere and Duke was home alone, the bedspreads would miraculously get circles in the middle, the sort a dog makes when turning around and around. We never did catch him at it. He was one smart dog.

Yesterday was computer day from hell. My Mac screen stayed black. The keyboard lit and the cursor worked, but the screen would die just after the apple appeared. I went crazy. I got my iPad and went hunting. One site told me to hold the shift key so it would open in safe mode. That didn’t work. I’d read my book for a while, but I kept stopping to stare at the computer. I hate computer problems, and I have this overwhelming need to solve them. I’d put my book down and try something else suggested by some poor computer illiterate with the same problem. I went from forum to forum. I felt like Diogenes wandering with my lamp looking not for an honest man but for a solution. I actually found one. It was five steps, and the woman who posted it had gotten the solution from Apple. The comments after the steps were from people thanking her which gave me encouragement and also let me know the problem was not the machine. It was a glitch from an Apple system automatic update that never quite got past the login screen. When my desktop appeared, I was Rocky running up the stairs of the art museum in triumph: computer 0,  me 1.

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“Oh dear sunday, I want to sleep in your arms and have fun day.”

October 6, 2013

The sun is gone to regions unknown. It is a chilly, damp day. I always think Sundays should be bright and sunny. A beautiful warm day  would make me optimistic about the rest of the week.

This morning I didn’t tarry for a look at the garden. I grabbed my papers and came right back inside the house. I know a few flowers are still blooming. The other day the bees were all over them. That morning I stopped and watched. I think it’s time for the front storm door.

The week seems to have an empty dance card, the same as last week. I liked it. One book was finished and another begun, and the odd places in the house were cleaned and polished: bookcases, knick-knacks, lamp shades and the tops of books. I lemon oiled the old wooden surfaces and cleaned tiles. I was possessed.

I still hold for quiet Sundays. When I was a kid, I complained there was nothing to do, and there wasn’t, but that has changed. Sunday is now the same as any other day except the newspaper is thicker. That seems wrong, not the paper of course, but the rest of it. We all need a day to enjoy life, even to do nothing which is enjoyable in itself. Lie on the couch and read or watch football, even take a nap. Most things can wait until tomorrow.

My boys won again yesterday. The Red Sox are now up 2 games to none. Big Papi hit two home runs. What made the win especially sweet was they beat Price. I love the post season.

Tonight is games, appies, The Amazing Race and dessert. Sounds like a perfect Sunday night to me.

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“There ought to be gardens for all months in the year, in which, severally, things of beauty may be then in season.”

September 26, 2013

My official acknowledgement of autumn was yesterday. The back screen door is now in the cellar and the storm door is in its place. The nights had been too cold to leave the backdoor open so Gracie didn’t have access to her dog door. She would ring the bells to go out, and I’d have to go running to open the door then wait for her. Now Gracie can come and go as she pleases.

The days seem darker to me, the sun less bright. I figure it’s mostly my imaginings at the transition in seasons. The cat still sleeps in the morning sun streaming through the front door so she is content. I am not. Every day seems to bring a change as we rush toward winter. The fall flowers are at their peak. The mums in my garden have all bloomed. The new flowers are planted in the front garden. The deck looks desolate and has pine needles, small twigs and branches and the hulls of sunflower seeds strewn about. Some days I sit in the sun in the afternoon, but I wear a sweatshirt against the chill. The days of short-sleeves have ended. We do have plenty of autumn left so my lament may be early, but the nights are cold. They feel like the first touch of winter.

I’m wearing my slippers and a sweatshirt. The house was cold this morning, colder than when I have the heat going, but I can’t bring myself to start the furnace: it’s the final surrender.

When I go to my old town, I always follow the route I used to walk to school. I notice the changes and remember what used to be there. The house where my friends grew up is gone. It was a pretty white house with red shutters and a trellis by the back door. A house near it was always a favorite of mine. It was an old house, one of the first on the street. It too is gone. In their place is a small brick apartment building, an ugly building with no character, with no homeyness. I am glad I don’t walk that route any more.

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“Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll.”

October 21, 2011

Though I woke up around 8:30, I lolled in bed for another hour or so. The room was chilly as the window had been open all night, and I just didn’t want to leave the comfort of my warm bed, but Gracie, sensing my stirrings, got up and went downstairs. I knew what she wanted and sure enough her door bells started ringing. She wanted out. I ran downstairs, let her out and ran right back to bed. Much later I decided to brave the day and dragged myself downstairs, grabbed a cup of coffee and went to get the papers. I’m still wishing I were back in bed.

I went to the library yesterday afternoon as their guest speaker about my trip to Ghana. I was gone about 2 and 1/2 hours. When I got home, I noticed a gift left for me in the hall, a dead mouse, compliments, I think, of Miss Maddie as she was in the hall probably waiting for my oh’s and ah’s at the wonderful present she had given me. I thanked her with what I hope was enough exuberance then I took the mouse and disposed of its remains.

Today is breezy, maybe even windy, and chillier than it has been though the sun is shining. I suppose the weatherman would call the temperature seasonal. I have to go to the dump today, and I’m putting in the last storm door, an admission of defeat, a recognition that the cold is coming.

I haven’t walked backwards in a long time. When I was a kid, I used to walk backwards when I had to pass the field on my way to school. The cold wind would whip across that field and hit me in the face numbing my nose and cheeks and making my eyes water so I’d give the wind my back. I remember how my coat used to billow when the wind hit it and how I’d have to look every now and then to see where I was going. A feeling of relief and even warmth always came when I’d get to the next street and have the protection of the houses and the huge trees lining the walk. That was when I’d turn and face the day.

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“I’m easily distracted by other things in the world around me”.

October 3, 2011

We have another day which can’t quite make up its mind. For a while it’s sunny then the clouds take over then comes the sun for another turn. Right now we have sun. Today is remove the screen from the back storm door day, always a painful chore. It means I have thrown in the towel and recognized that cold nights are here and won’t be going away. I do the back door first because it’s always open so Gracie can come and go as she pleases through her dog door. During the day it’s not too chilly, but at night, I can feel the cold air making its way down the hall to me. It’s time.

After a trip, I have a sense of wanderlust which takes a while to disappear; well, actually it never disappears: it just gets bearable. Sometimes, of late, I find myself on-line looking for cheap flights anywhere. I don’t ever remember getting there. It’s as if something took hold of me, a possession of sorts needing an exorcism.

My neighbor is mowing his lawn. He’s wearing a sweatshirt, jeans and a baseball cap. I think he’s a barometer of sorts.

I remember staring out the classroom windows even though it was frowned upon as an indicator of a lack of attention. There was never much to see out those windows, but they represented a sort of freedom I no longer had. On the lower floor, I could see the street in front of the school. I’d watch for cars to drive by. If I had a room in the back, I’d only see the empty playground and ached to be there. On the top floor, it was the sky I’d see, and I’d watch the clouds drifting and swirling and sometimes forming animals as they moved. When it rained, I’d see the drops hitting the windows, and I’d follow one as it slid down and disappeared.

When it rained, the class seemed quiet, subdued, and the room was always a bit dark even with the lights on. Sometimes the rain and pencils writing on paper were the only sounds. A rainy day was my favorite school day.

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